


Bait and Switch

by breejah



Category: Labyrinth (1986), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arrogance, Bullying, Crossover, F/M, FWUCollections, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Ostracizing, Overcoming Phobias, Peer Pressure, Sarcasm, Snark, Social Anxiety, Switching Places, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, bait and switch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 09:29:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15838473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breejah/pseuds/breejah
Summary: Fed up with their respective son's attitudes, two powerful Kings decide to teach their sons a lesson in humility and to not take the boons with their destinies so lightly. Along the way to discovering who they really are and what love might be like for them both, they might even realize that things aren't always best won by trickery and arrogance.The crossover we all didn't know we needed  - Loki, Prince of Asgard, meets Jareth, The Goblin King, where each trickster is thrust into the boots of the other, quite literally.Rated M for some light sexual content, cursing, some bullying, social ostracizing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: It's here! Been wanting to do this crossover for a while and the plot finally struck me and here we go. It's a short one, only spanning a few chapters, but I will post daily until it's complete (estimated Friday). This will be T for minor romance scenes, some cursing, and downright devilry.
> 
> Two of my favorites, finally together, mucking each other's respective realms up in the process. (Did I mention they both are idiots when it comes to women?)
> 
> Set before events of the Thor movie, before Loki started actually muddling in 'the dark side.'
> 
> This fic is dedicated to my dear friend Lady Kyridwen who's one of the best people I know and shares my love of both these tricksters. Check out her stories! They're great!

* * *

 

 

_**Sheep Heid Inn, Historic Pub, Edinburgh, Scotland** _

Oberon shimmered into view two block down, his boots making little sound as he moved along the cobbled stone streets, heading towards the dark banner in the distance. Titania, his wife, was asleep and he'd managed to finish the paperwork for tomorrow's council session demands ahead of schedule, smiling to himself as he hurried across the street and ducked inside.

He closed his eyes, willing his glamour into place, as he scanned the small pub. In the back corner, a bearded figure waved, and he walked towards the table in question, grinning and clapping the figure on the back.

"Odin, old friend, it's been too long!" He chuckled, looking over the Norse God's appearance. "Is that even more grey I see? Damn, you're an old son of a bitch now," he teased, settling into the seat beside the man, watching the barrel-chested older man grunt with a roll of the one eye not blocked under a patch. His hair was long, his beard kempt, but despite the silver locks, keen intelligence shone in his eyes. Oberon knew, no matter how he appeared, Odin could rival him for power easily.

"Not all us males are as lucky to be as pretty as you, Oberon," grunted Odin, raising a hand to summon a waitress. Placing a double order of ale for them both, Odin sat back and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I didn't expect your summons. It's nice to hear from you, friend. How is Titania?"

"She's as formidable as always. Frigga?" Oberon smiled, thanking the waitress when she returned with their order, taking a sip of his ale, watching the Norse God swallow half his pint in three swallows.

"My Frigga is as beautiful as she is kind, as time attests." Briefly, Odin's eyes softened and he looked back at Oberon, who smiled, knowing that look well. It was rare for Gods and Fae Kings alike to find that special mate, but they'd both been blessed in that way. "I wish I could say the same for my damned sons, though." He growled, dropping that softened expression, staring sourly into his pint glass.

Oberon rolled his eyes, wiping a hand over his face. "Aye, I know those troubles all too well, friend."

Odin stilled, looking back over at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? Your son failing to meet his duties as well, is he?"

"Might as well be," Oberon muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face, mimicking Odin's exasperated look. "Jareth's been sullen for years, his kingdom is in shambles and ran so badly, if it weren't for his advisor, the Labyrinth itself would be bankrupt. He refuses to attend any balls, knowing I age and approach the fade. He must find a suitable Queen, to continue the line, and stop acting so damned childish so the nobles will accept him, but he never listens. His only saving grace is he still manages the wishers well, and I haven't had to explain my realm's actions to that blasted mortal, Nick Fury."

"Midgardian mortals are a rather trying bunch," Odin sympathized with Oberon's woes. "I'm sorry, I should not have told that SHIELD director that you, not he, was Midgard's voice at the Council of Worlds. It has caused you problems."

"Don't worry, friend. I can handle one wiley mortal," Oberon mused, smiling faintly. He tipped his head to the side, sipping on his ale. "Tell me your struggles, what are Thor and Loki doing that irritate you so?"

"Thor is mostly good, if too prideful, but that will soon pass - I hope," Odin chuckled, then rubbed another hand over his face, his expression growing dark and irritable. "Loki, on the other hand...that child will be the death of me."

Oberon's lips twitched, but he schooled the grin out of his face. "How so?"

Odin glared at him, picking up on Oberon's amusement in the way he phrased his question. Oberon had the decency to look contrite before Odin rolled his eyes and sighed. "He treats mortals as inferior, he is too sourly for his own good, his knack for mischief has earned him the gossip title of 'God of Mischief,' which is more accurate than I care to admit. I sense…" Odin frowned, looking troubled, and Oberon found his amusement slipping as he stared, true concern showing in his eyes for his friend.

"Sense what, old friend?" Oberon pressed, when Odin went silent and said nothing for several minutes. Odin looked back at him and sighed.

"I sense that if I do not act soon, he will be beyond saving and headed down a path I cannot help him with."

Odin's heavy words had Oberon's eyebrows raising. Were things so truly dire with the Asgardian prince?

"Have you tried binding his powers?" Oberon gently suggested, watching Odin scowl.

"No, but his damned mother would come unglued if I did. I've tried reasoning with him, but the damned boy's attitude leaves me at wit's end shortly after we try and I somehow walking away feeling that he's made  _me_  appear the fool trying to warn him off his course." Odin looked positively murderous as he recalled the latest time he tried to reason with Loki. Oberon frowned, tipping his head to the side, thinking.

"Do you think…" Oberon started, as Odin sat up sharply, looking at him with a gleam in his eye.

"What about - " Odin started, pausing as he interrupted Oberon, grinning and laughing as they both stumbled to a halt.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Oberon tried again, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"I very well may be, old friend!" Odin barked, laughter and a sliver of Loki's trickery glinting in the Norse God's eye. Together, they laughed and drained their pints, starting on the next.

"Should we even warn them?" Oberon mused, tipping his head to the side.

"Nah," Odin snarked, giving Oberon a devilish grin. "Just send them a summons and we'll inform them right before it's decreed. We can, as you love to say, be  _generous_  before we turn their worlds upside down."

Oberon's laughter rang out over the pub and he raised his glass, clinking his pint against Odin's.

"Let the games begin, then. To our defiant sons!" Oberon grinned, watching Odin thump a fist against the table and laugh.

"May they reap what they sew." Odin agreed, and the two troubled elders fell quiet, draining their last glass.

* * *

_**The Castle Beyond the Goblin City, The Labyrinth, Underground** _

Jareth groaned, squinting, his eyes as he tilted his head up from the rumpled sheets he laid sprawled in. He made a weak gesture, croaking out a command to close the drapes. The intruder in his room immediately complied and he sighed, his head softly crashing to the soft pillow underneath.

He had the worst hangover in his life, his brain feeling pickled inside his skull, his throat burning from how many times he'd retched and drank, then repeated the process - all in an effort to banish one particular mortal out of his mind's eye.

It hadn't worked and now he just felt like shit with _her_  image stuck in his head. Life positively sucked.

"Your Grace, please let me open the window. I will close the drapes when I am done. It smells worse than a goblin outhouse in here…" His advisor muttered, his soft voice filled with disdain. Jareth groaned, too exhausted to even roll his eyes, but briefly brought up his hand and weakly gestured to allow his advisor to do what he wished, as long as he kept the sun out of his eyes.

His advisor sighed, then did what he promised, and even Jareth had to admit the smell in the room improved.

"You have a rather busy schedule today, my liege, so I think it best that - " His advisor started in that gratingly patient voice and Jareth growled, thrusting a pillow over his face to drown the man out.

"You go," He commanded, muttering from under the pillow. He didn't have to listen that hard to feel the disapproval from the man as he paused, then sighed. Jareth's headache pounded worse and he resisted the urge to vomit again as his annoyance rose.

"Sire, I am not the King,  _you are._  At some point, you need to accept that Mistress Sarah is not coming back and that you have duties you must attend to, no matter how much you…" His advisor once more started in with that kind, soft voice, and Jareth saw red at the mention of Sarah's name, rolling into a sitting position and glaring at the other fae, even when the action made his insides come dangerously close to revolting and purging the contents of his stomach.

"Don't mention that woman's name in my presence, ever again!" He roared, glowering, ignoring the subtle swaying of his upper body. "Either way, my father wouldn't approve, so there's no point in discussing her. I never want to hear the name Sarah Williams again, understand?"

Alfred frowned, the older fae noble staring at Jareth with a fatherly mixture concern and irritation. "You do not know that, Jareth, you've never even given your father a chance to hear your reasoning for her as a suitable candidate…"

" _Enough!_ " Roared Jareth, standing and almost slipping in the process, the shatter of a glass being heard as his hip connected with the side table next to the bed. He stalked across the room in a haze, heading for the bathroom, hoping to make it before he got sick yet again.

"Go to the meetings in my stead. I'll...be...in here. Vomiting up what's left of my pride," Jareth sneered, then slammed the door to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time.

He failed to immediately notice the gilded summons that fluttered to the bathroom counter as he retched.

* * *

_**Wintersnight Ball, Allfather Throne Room, Asgard** _

Loki stared across the ball, his eyes fixated on the blonde ethereal beauty across the way, his eyes eating up her figure and the subtle way she maneuvered the other guests and suitors around her. She was magnificent and everything he ever wanted and - he still hadn't worked up the nerve to even mutter a greeting to her all night. Inwardly, his thoughts turned mulish and dark.

_You're pathetic, Odinson._

Sighing, seeing her smile and accept the hand of yet another male - not  _him_  - he turned away, muttering something vile towards the eager suitor and draining the last of his glass. He hesitated, suddenly filled with an urge to cross the ball, yank her out of that male's grasp, and ask - no,  _demand_  - she dance with him and no others for the rest of the evening. Almost immediately, the urge faded, knowing the male she was with would not give up his find so easily.

Looking over his shoulder as they glided together across the floor, he almost snarled, watching her swallow and stare up into the face of the male parading her about the floor like a prized bull. If it had been  _him_  with his arms around her, he'd treat her like the queen she was, not a trophy to be shown off to his friends. He'd -

He stilled, shocked her eyes met his across the room as she danced in the other male's arms, and a blush bloomed in her cheeks before she hastily looked away. He blinked, almost thinking he mistook the brief glance.

"Loki!"

Setting his teeth, he forced a smile he didn't feel on his face before turning, looking at his brother's oafish frame barrel across the room, towards him. He stiffened, realizing Thor was going to do exactly what he hated, and sure enough, he did - snatching up Loki's thinner, swimmer's body in his large grip, hoisting him up for a moment against his chest like a babe.

He bristled, then admonished Thor in the iciest voice he could summon. "Let me  _down_ , brother. You're causing a scene." His eyes slid away from his sun-bleached ogre of a brother, catching the stares of several others. The laughter in their eyes felt like insults rather than amusement and he resisted the urge to summon a horde of bugs in their glasses.

 _Leeches, all of you,_ he inwardly sneered, always having been seen as his brother's inferior, and this display helped in no way to fix that reputation. He bristled more at Thor's next words.

"Of course I am, brother! And why wouldn't I? We are the treasured sons of Odin the Allfather! They should be so lucky to bask in our splendor!" Thor grinned, then saw Loki's lingering stare at Sigyn, before he sat him down.

"You're staring at  _her_  again, brother. You know she's rumored to be engaged soon, yes?" Thor commented, slinging an arm around Loki's shoulder, loudly demanding a cup of ale from a passing servant. Loki froze, knowing instinctively others most likely heard his comment, and wanted to slink away into the shadows and die of mortification.

His eyes met Sigyn's again across the ball and once more, that tell-tale blush rose in her cheeks and she quickly looked away. He felt like he had been punched in the gut.

 _Engaged? Truly?_ Suddenly, red hot rage filled him as Thor leaned over, accepting two pints, twisting Loki in his grasp. He shoved Thor away from him with a snarl, then tore across the ball, leaving his brother and the rest of the ballroom attendants in shocked silence as he left.

As he stalked down the halls, retreating from that mockery of a celebration, he looked down as a gilded summons appeared in his hand. Frowning, turning it over and seeing the seal of both the High Fae King and his father, he looked about and made sure he was alone, then made his way to his rooms to read it in private.

* * *

_**Allfather's Throne Room, Asgard** _

Standing surreptitiously tall, Jareth leaned against a pillar in the opulent throne room and frowned, seeing no one. Sighing, he looked down, reading through the summons again and rolled his eyes. The letter gave no indication why he had to be here, only that his presence was required by both his father and the Norse God known as Odin and if he refused, he'd be dragged there by his hair.

Tapping a boot on the floor with impatience, he waited - and waited - and  _waited._

_Where the hell is everyone?_

"What the hell are YOU doing here?" A cold sneer came from over his shoulder, making Jareth pause and turn, narrowing his gaze at the dark-haired male near him, a few steps behind, his features cold and hard.

"Odison," Jareth offered as a way of greeting, unable to resist adding the mimicked sneer back towards his princely counterpart that had suddenly chosen that moment to appear. He arched an eyebrow, flicking his gaze over Loki's usual tunic and breeches in dark green, the color he favored. "Charming as always, I see."

To any casual observer, the Asgardian prince was everything the Fae prince was not, Jareth dressed in a bright grey trouser and boot set with a flowing poet's shirt top. They could have been brothers, mirror opposite twins of one another, but the look of revulsion on both their faces made it apparent that Loki would have disapproved, even if Jareth had been open to the concept. They were too similar in mental tendency to agree on the uncanny dipole they cast standing next to each other - keenly intelligent, prone to deviousness, their merit found in their thin swimmer frames instead of warrior's muscles.

Before either could say anything further, a staff slammed on the stone floor, jerking their attention towards Odin's throne. The Allfather sat there, High King Oberon at his side, both men frowning at them.

Loki stiffened and Jareth scowled, looking around the room, noting no one else there. "Father…" Jareth started, his smile brittle and mocking, a cajoled bow springing out of him, barely resisting to hold back his eye roll. "And All Father Odin. To what…" His eyes flicked distastefully to Loki, who looked back at him with equal disdain. "Do I owe this summons?"

Loki snorted and Jareth swung his head towards the prince, baring his teeth, fully ready to hurl an insult, when Odin spoke, silencing the words before they could take flight.

"Both of you are summoned here. Both of you are a disgrace to your title, your station and house, your name. If it weren't for my old friend here, boy, you'd be facing far worse crimes. I can state the same for you, Jareth." Odin growled, glaring furiously between them both.

Jareth blinked, taken aback at Odin's harsh words, looking at his father for confirmation. Oberon's harsh expression confirmed he felt the same as the Norse God and he stiffened in surprise. Loki's sudden sharp inhale seemed to echo Jareth's stunned stance.

"If left to your current paths, both of you would bring ruin to your lines - and not only that, to those who shelter and rely on your protection. This cannot be allowed to continue, you are both princes of the realms," Oberon commented, his cool tone just as chilling as Odin's harsh one.

Neither Jareth or Loki knew what to say, only briefly looking at one another before Odin continued, rising from his seat.

"So, it is with this mutual decision, that we both decided to thrust some humility upon the both of you. Effective immediately, my son will take on your duties as Goblin King, Jareth, Son of Oberon. And you, boy, will take my son's place, as Prince of Asgard."

Jareth stared, shocked into silence - but it was Loki's rapid burst of laughter that broke the silence in the room.

"You've got to be kidding me, right? Me? Rule over a bunch of gibberish-speaking mongrels? Me?" Loki's eyes raged, his cheekbones scalding red, as he glared at his father, looking over at Jareth in disgust.

Jareth froze, a snarl of his own erupting past his lips. " _Excuse me? '_ God of Pouting and Bad Manners,' isn't it? Just what exactly do  _YOU_ rule over, eh? You should be so lucky..."

"Enough! Both of you!" Shouted Odin, slamming his staff down. Jareth and Loki traded murderous glances before looking back on the two elders.

"So help me, you two WILL learn manners, WILL learn your place, and WILL learn to treat your destinies with a measure of respect!" Odin roared, glaring at the two of them as Oberon's eyes began to glow.

Suddenly, fear seized Jareth. "Father, I - "

Before he could say anything, the world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was meant to be a "quick fic" by my standards, so I am not going over this with a fine-toothed comb as I usually do when I edit, so forgive any spelling or grammar errors.

**[One Month Later]**

_**The Castle Beyond the Goblin City, The Labyrinth, Underground** _

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, before jerking to a stand and roaring loudly at the ruckus in the dilapidated throne room he'd been dropped unceremoniously into over a fortnight ago.

"Silence, you cretins! I'll have you know, I'm a  _God!_  I demand to be treated with - "

He didn't even get to finish his sentence before a goblin ran by, whooping with laughter, and threw a spoiled tomato at him, pegging Loki square in the temple. It splattered across half his face, down his tunic and breeches, to land on his favorite pair of boots, utterly ruining the coiffed appearance he prided himself on.

The state the fruit left him in caused all the other goblins to start laughing hysterically and before he could properly punish such an act of utter disrespect - chickens, feathers, cups of ale, various small creatures and half-rotted particles of food were flying  _everywhere._

It took every ounce of integrity he had not to let loose with a roar of utter fury but he let the urge pass, knowing it would only make him more of a target for their antics. When the vile little monsters got in a certain mood, it was contagious and he barely managed to avoid the impact of their wildfire herdish tendencies.

Simply deciding it best to let them finish turning the throne room into a garbage disposal, Loki ran from the room, cursing the whole way. His father had left out the little caveat that his magic wouldn't work here, something that blindly faithful advisor of Jareth's had addressed in that comically patient tone as "Pardon, Sire - Norse magic and Fae magic, whilst mistaken to be similar amongst mortals, are actually quite different, your Majesty. They do not work the same in different realms and I assure you, if you but study our text in the castle library, you'll soon find a way to work your magic to our particular realm's specifications. It could be a simple pronunciation error, yes?"

_Specifications, smeshifications,_  Loki sneered.  _I am not about to lower myself to this hell hole's brand of magic. I can say my spells just fine,_ _ **thank-you-very-much.**_ _It will probably taint something about me._ Still, it rankled him he was as magicless as a mere mortal and knew by his father's returns of each and every scathing summons he sent back to Asgard, he was well and truly stuck until he figured a way out of this mess.

He'd never, not in a million years, admit he slightly begrudged Jareth's ability to control the goblins and the Labyrinth magic at large. He didn't realize that pompous bore of a Fae actually had intelligence - not that he was on  _his_  level, but - the past several weeks in the Labyrinth had left Loki in a startled realization of what all Oberon's realm controlled. Idly, he wondered why the High King or even Jareth himself didn't demand more respect. They certainly had enough secrets and power to be allowed a bigger stage than what they had in Asgard politics or in their voting capacity on the Council of Worlds he'd attended a time or two, remembering Oberon as usually a quiet, reasoning voice - one that only spoke at the most heated times.

He grit his teeth as he shoved the throne room double doors shut, sagging briefly against the other side of it, rolling his eyes as he listened to the goblins' screams and hoops of laughter alongside the smashing of plates, cups, and splatters of food.

"Prince Loki."

Loki jerked to a stand, scowling at Arthur, Jareth's former advisor - now his - and grit his teeth at the fae's ability to sneak up on him.  _"Yes?"_ He hissed, barely managing to make the curt reply seem polite. They'd already discussed Alfred's lack of concern of his rather light footsteps and it almost felt like the man purposefully 'forgot' to announce his presence before he happened upon him. It made his blood pressure spike as Loki fought to appear decent when all he wanted to do is snap at him about his rude manners.

"Your schedule," the older fae replied, handing him a placard. Loki snatched it up and began reading through it as Alfred turned away.

"Wait," Loki barked out, his tone implying his annoyance at needing assistance to understand one of the entries on the card. Alfred turned, raising an eyebrow. "What's this about?"

Alfred returned to his side and bent over, reading where Loki's finger was. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes -  _You wrote the fucking card, idiot, why do you need to read what I'm pointing at? Gods save me from the Fae and this horrible place…_

"That, Sire, is an appointment with the SHIELD men for last week's….event." Alfred finally replied, pulling back, keeping his expression blank and his tone kind and non-judgmental.

" _What?_ We...addressed this with them already!" Loki argued, looking affronted.

Alfred simply shrugged a shoulder, his expression still unruffled. "Not to Mister Fury, you didn't. He oversees all Midgard mortal plane events - with a fine-toothed comb, I might add. Your…" Alfred paused, bowing his head, seeing Loki bristle, "..I meant to say -  _our_  - mishandle of the last few runners gathered their attention. I'm sure it's just a technicality, Sire, but we must make ourselves agreeable to the mortals."

"I will  _not_  continue to repeat myself," Loki hissed, glaring angrily at the older male. "Tell him to read his reports from his subordinates." He moved to go, but Alfred's next words struck home, making him pause.

"Shall I inform High King Oberon that we decline the meeting? He shall be in attendance as well," the advisor remarked - his tone as calm as if he was merely discussing the weather.

_That_ was the one thing that made him hesitate, then grimace, scrubbing a hand across his face. He shook his head. "No, no...I'll..make the time. Any other  _surprises?_ "

Alfred shook his head, then looked towards the throne room doors, hearing the ruckus going on behind it. "I shall endeavor to locate the cleaning staff once they've worn themselves out."

Loki said nothing, though he was internally grateful, moving down the hall to change clothes. He hated looking the fool, but some deep part of himself appreciated Alfred's unwavering sense of loyalty to the Labyrinth and the crown - even if the one wearing it these days it bore dark hair instead of light.

Sighing tiredly, he moved to his guest suite, then dropped the placard on his dresser, moving towards the bathroom. He froze when he smelled it, staring in horror at his bathtub. Inside it, was a massive bucket of the bog - worst smelling stuff this side of Ulik's people in Asgard. A note on it said:  _For New Kingy. You're funny lookin._

He forced himself to calm, then silently left the guest suite he occupied, muttering to a passing servant to move his items to the next set of rooms, heading to the bathroom to soak - this time, blessedly free of bog water.

* * *

_**Anvil Pub, Realm of Asgard, Favorite of Thor and the Warrior's Three** _

"...and that's when this man walks up and says, 'What's said is said!' You should have seen the look on Hoder's face after he said that when he shot Balder with the arrow! It was a sight not to be missed!" Roared Thor, clapping Jareth on the back, making him stiffen and hold onto the bar, just to avoid toppling off the stool he sat on. He forced a brittle smile, not feeling at all the enjoyment the others did, watching the other warriors laugh alongside Loki's big brother, a large gossipmonger if there ever was one.  _And I thought goblins chattered too much - I take it back. I take it ALL back._

The other warriors that filtered in from the outside jostled Jareth's shoulders as a brutish means of greeting as they passed, making him wince at the inherent roughness - for once in his life missing the smaller, sillier antics of his subjects. These brutes and their impolite grabs - which most likely would leave a bruise, if they weren't particularly careful with the armor they always donned - it made him want to cast a spell and freeze them all before they tried it again.  _Stop tackling me! Ever heard of a simple 'hello?' Why must you constantly molest my person as a means of recognizing my presence? Brutes..._

Magic problems was the one thing he remedied quickly, summoning a protection spell with a quick mutter, letting the crystal that formed in his palm touch his dark grey attire - something he also hated, Asgardians had the worst fashion sense - quickly finding the arcane librarians and fixing his dilemma of magic, adjusting his spellcraft accordingly. It irked him he couldn't scry his home, wondering how badly things were now - and he had to admit, it made him feel a little guilt for leaving things so poorly as they were, knowing Alfred was probably taxed to his limits with Loki and things already being in bad shape to begin with.

He sighed, then bristled, when Thor's meaty hand jostled him yet again, going on about the inadvertent role he played in testing the other god's invulnerability - a bet made by Thor, of all people, with Jareth as his means to win this bet. The unexpected guilt he felt in that unknowing role he played in that bet surprised him. He frowned, looking at Thor. "Despite my statement, which still holds true, I wonder if we should not have…"

"Are you kidding, brother? We won that bet!" Interrupted Thor, shrugging off Jareth's concern, "Hoder can't be mad he just fell for your trickery. All is fair for bets and war as they say, yes?"

_That's actually not how the saying goes, nor does it apply to tricking blind old men,_ growled Jareth in his head, but the young Norse prattled on.

"In any event, we won that bet! There were no rules we broke! Ahh, I like you Jareth, son of Oberon. You are so much like him but without all the…" Thor tipped his head to the side, looking over at his friends with a grin. "What's the word I'm looking for?"

"Surliness?" Offered Hogan with a shrug, sipping his pint.

"Brittle disposition?" Offered Volstagg with a polite grin, draining his cup in two mouthfuls, pouring himself another.

"Bitchiness?" Smirked Sif, coquettishly winking at Thor and Jareth as she shrugged a shoulder, hearing Thor's roar of laughter.

"I like the way you think, fine lady!" Rumbled Thor, grinning and squeezing Jareth's shoulder hard enough he winced. The others failed to notice.

He stilled, listening as they all three started talking at once, thinking back to what Thor said, remembering with a painful squeeze in his chest what he'd done over the centuries as the Goblin King. By all accounts, he broke no rules, not the old ones or the new, in how he sought his victories over the mortals, but...was it necessarily the  _right_  thing to do?

His mood grew dark, casting off the very thought. He was fine as he was,  _thank-you-very-much._  He snorted to himself, the others not seeing the act, thinking of how even now - leagues away from Earth, Sarah and her sense of 'fairness' continued to haunt him. He brought his drink to his lips and drained the whole pint dry in one session, suddenly realizing the others stopped talking.

He turned, seeing their grins. He rolled his eyes, knowing why they looked at him with such pride. If it was one thing he could do right in this blasted realm, it was drink.

"Another round?" He offered coolly, almost finding himself enjoying the chorus of approvals that went around the table.

* * *

"Excuse me? Are you...Jareth, son of Oberon?"

Jareth turned, nearly toppling off his stool, at the soft feminine voice that tugged at his ear. It was so gently spoken, that greeting, he almost missed it over Thor and the other's continued loud outbursts. He had been drinking with the warriors and when they moved from ale to bourbon, he realized he was not used to Asgardian alcohol. He was well and truly drunk now and for the first time - not realizing how strong their spirits were - actually regretted the action.

"Er, yes. And you are?" Jareth frowned, squinting, looking at the blonde Asgardian woman in front of him. She was pretty but not his type and Jareth did his best to appear as disinterested as he was - hoping she was not trying to seduce him. Even if he liked her, he wasn't sure he was up for the job, literally.  _Damn this alcohol._ She'd already failed to snag him as a person of interest either way, too shy to strike his eye, watching her shift nervously on her feet and lick her lips before continuing.

"Do you know where Prince Loki might be?" She whispered, tipping her head to the side as she inspected Jareth, the act clinical and not all flirtatious. It made him relax, realizing she was not after him, but his missing replacement.

"Not here," Jareth said evasively, still not sure how much he should share of his combined plight with the missing Prince. "Why the concern?"

"No reason, it's just…" She trailed off, frowning as she looked towards the group behind him, and Jareth struggled to look over his shoulder, his head swimming, seeing Thor approach. She didn't leave, merely went quiet, as Thor slung an arm around Jareth, nearly sending him crashing to the floor.

"Brother Jareth! Let us go and find other sources of entertainment. Sorry, Lady Sigyn, this is not for a fine upstanding noble woman such as you. Begone." Thor grinned, not seeming to notice Sigyn's frown of disapproval or Jareth's grimace of annoyance.

He could barely see straight, how was he supposed to find and swive a woman in this state? He couldn't be serious, could he?

"I don't think…" Jareth began, only for Thor to cut him off again, making Jareth seethe.

"Nonsense! Let's go!" Thor roared, lifting Jareth clean out of his chair, making Jareth shout in surprise and outrage.  _How dare he? I have my own legs! Stop touching me!_

"Let me go, you fucking ingrate!" Jareth snarled, shoving at Thor, mismatched gaze flashing. Thor immediately dropped him and Jareth stumbled as he found his footing once more. He sneered at the Norse God, his contempt quite clear -  _it is the drink that made him so bold_ , at least that's what he told himself.

Thor simply blinked in surprise, his eyes widening. The others were too far away, struggling to stand themselves, and Jareth got the impression they felt the same as he did but didn't have the heart (or didn't want the strike against their pride) to tell Thor no.

Jareth had no such conflictions.

"You are an ogre, Thor Odinson. You wonder  _why_  your brother hates you so openly? How  _dare_ you presume to know me or my tastes! Not everything is about winning or showing off! You are strong, a warrior, no one would ever doubt that, but did you ever  _think_ there are other means of victory? I want  _nothing_  to do with you or your so-called 'friends' if this is what being a warrior of the Asgard realm entails. Do yourself a favor and don't talk to me until I'm off this cursed rock - do I make myself clear?" He hissed, keeping his tone low so it wouldn't carry, but with enough venom in the words that his intent would be quite clear.

"Perfectly," muttered Thor, his expression hurt and cloudy. It should have made Jareth feel guilt, but it didn't. He summoned a crystal, closing his eyes, willing himself back to his guest suite at the castle.

Beside where Jareth stood, Sigyn frowned at Thor. Thor rolled his eyes. "What?"

"You'll never be worthy of Mjolnir if you keep acting like a child, Thor Odinson." She simply replied, leaving Thor standing there in shock as she turned and left, a sad look in her eyes.

* * *

**[One Week Later]**

_**Ambassador's Analytics, LLC, Privately Owned Business, New York, New York** _

"Yo! Sarah! Sarah! Look at me - hey!  _Sar-aghhhhhhhh!"_

Sarah blinked, nearly dropping her compact mirror out of her hand, as she touched up her makeup in her office, about to head to a critical meeting for contract negotiations down the hall. She squinted, peering in closer at what she was seeing.

"Hoggle?"

The dwarf finally rolled his eyes, ripping the red skull cap off his head. " _Finally,_  Jesus Christ on a pogostick. You heard me. I was afraid I was going to go hoarse before you noticed."

Sarah sputtered, frowning, looking over her shoulder to make sure her office door was still closed. "Wait, back up. Where'd you learn that phrase?" She commented, both amused and slightly wary, sensing the answer.

"Your brother. Pretty amazing what a fifteen-year-old kid can come up with." Griped Hoggle, seeing Sarah's face suffuse with fury. "Listen, before you get all mad, I had to! Things are bad here, Sarah! Or...as you mortals say -  _royally fucked up._  I need your help, stat. Get your ass to a bigger mirror, I'm coming over."

" _Here? Now?"_  She hissed, looking around wildly, seeing the wall length mirror by her door begin to shimmer.

"Yes, now. Move over woman, I'm - " The mirror reflection of Hoggle petered out and she jerked to a stand, just as Hoggle came through the large mirror across her office. "-coming through." He stated, looking exhausted and haggard, even for him. She stared, both eyebrows raising, at a loss for what to do. She began to panic, thinking of how she'd explain this to her boss -

_Oh fuck, the meeting!_

Leaning over her desk, she snatched up her phone and dialed her receptionist, holding up a finger to pause Hoggle's tirade. "Morgan? Yes, hi. It's Sarah. I need to cancel the meeting. Yes, I know it's last minute but…" She looked over at Hoggle, frowning. "Family emergency," she blurted, latching onto the first excuse she could think of. "Yeah, no, probably not a big deal but I need to go in any event. Clear my schedule for the rest of…" She looked back at Hoggle, who shrugged. She frowned. "...make it the week. Yeah, thanks." She hung up the phone and glared at Hoggle, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I know, I know, save it for later. You can chew my ass as long as you like then, but right now, I need you to come with me. Shit's hit the fan in the Labyrinth lately - literally, on occasion." Hoggle started before Sarah could say anything, making her blink. "You're the only one I know who's got the balls to go against the High King and fix this."

Sarah opened her mouth to tell him she didn't want, nor need, to add to drama in her life. Whatever nonsense Jareth had himself in now was  _his_  problem, not hers. Hoggle seemed to sense what she was going to say and surged forward, dropping to his knees, the epitome of an exhausted, overworked employee on the verge of a mental breakdown. " _Please,_  Sarah. My wits can't deal with this.  _Help me!"_

She sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face. "Ugh,  _fine_." She ignored his whoop of relief, gesturing to her charcoal pencil skirt and business blouse. "I should change first..."

" _No!_ I need you now, Sarah!  _NOW!_ " Hoggle bounced up, dragging her with him towards the mirror. She blinked, surprised at his hysterical attitude, but stumbled through the mirror before she could think better of why he was so hasty to begin with.

As she transported there, something changed, and she felt herself lose her hold on Hoggle. With a faint yelp of surprise, she stumbled into the throne room, not Hoggle's home, blinking at what she was seeing.

The man on the throne turned, staring at her with a narrowed gaze.

"You're...not Jareth." She finally managed to reply.

He grinned, tipping his head to the side. "No, I'm not. Pray tell, who are  _you?"_

_Oh boy._ Sarah thought, staring at the man who surveyed her like an evening meal - and not in the feel-good sexy-times kind of way.  _Hoggle, I'm going to fucking kill you._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory "this is a quick fic, don't judge me too harshly on spelling/grammar please" insert. You've been warned.

_**Throne Room of Goblin Castle, Labyrinth** _

"Um, Sarah Williams. You?" She replied, smoothing the wrinkles out of her skirt and blouse, straightening her hair, and shifting to her full height, meeting the dark-haired male's eyes. The smile he gave her made her skin crawl.

"Prince Loki Odinson, of Asgard. The God of Mischief, at your service." The male bobbed his head, slowly standing, approaching her with the single-mindedness of a snake catching sight of a mouse.

_The fucking Norse God of Mischief is now the Goblin King? What in the_ _**fuck** _ _, Hoggle…_

Sarah smiled while she inwardly seethed, keeping her cool, calming her rioting nerves as she tipped her chin up, letting the male know that she was not ruffled - at least not outwardly - at this little surprise shift of events. "I see. New to the role? What happened to your predecessor, if you don't mind the ask?"

"How'd you get here?" Loki asked coolly, ignoring her question, overriding her words with his own, strolling around her, his eyes wandering up and down her form. Sarah raised an eyebrow, looking at him as he passed, then waited with a sense of annoyance until he returned in her field of vision, catching his eye once more. He seemed amused at her lack of nerves and the tension in his shoulders eased. "You're rather bold for a mortal. Never thought I'd see the day."

"I was invited." She replied, keeping her voice calm. "Jareth?"

"Gone," Loki murmured, bringing his fist to his jaw, drumming his fingers against his chin. "By  _whom_  were you invited?" He questioned, his silken voice a dark threat in disguise.

Sarah narrowed her eyes, not about to spill that it had been Hoggle, sensing Loki would do far worse to him than Jareth would have. " _The Labyrinth_ ," she replied with a sharp tone, stepping forward a few paces, watching Loki stiffen, dropping his gloating stare.

"Mortals have no magic," quipped Loki, snatching her wrist and bringing her close. That time, Sarah  _did_  flinch, and he grinned, as if for a moment he almost thought she was more than human. She would have laughed if she wasn't scared shitless.

"This mortal isn't your average run of the mill human," Sarah retorted, jerking in his grasp. "Let me go, you ape."

Perhaps it wasn't wise to insult Gods but Loki immediately dropped his hand with a frown, stepping back a few paces. Sarah blinked, not expecting that reaction, rubbing her wrist as she looked him over.

"Again,  _who_  are you and what are you doing here? And answer me honestly, Sarah Williams of Earth, before I lose my patience." Growled Loki, narrowing his eyes, as his brief internal struggle seemed to be over, staring at Sarah with barely suppressed impatience.

Sarah sighed, rubbing a hand across her brow. "You're not meant to be here, that's what I'm guessing I'm here for. I'm the Champion of the Labyrinth and you're not the King. So, let's fix that, shall we?" Adding to the insanity of the situation, she held out her hand, offering her help in fixing Loki's - and Jareth's, wherever he was - predicament. "Deal?"

Loki stared at her so long, she began to grow nervous. What was he looking at? Why was he staring at her like that? Eventually, he smiled, the action rebelling against the meaning of the term, as he took her hand and brought it to his lips. "Deal, my mortal Champion. Now, explain to me exactly  _how_  you plan to fix this, hm?"

"I need to know all the details of how it happened first," She replied, scowling, crossing her arms over her chest. Loki simply grinned, then nodded, seemingly amused at her attitude.

"Come, then. I'll explain over tea. Or do you prefer coffee or spirits?" Loki edged closer, watching Sarah's every move. She forced herself to remain calm and he seemed almost briefly disappointed in her reaction.

"I'm good," She replied, wanting to get this over with. She looked at Loki, raising an eyebrow, and he suddenly laughed and shook his head.

"I like you. Come on, this way." Taking her elbow, he led her towards the throne room doors, towards the study he'd taken over, and she had the sense to briefly let panic seize her. A few moments later, she straightened her shoulders, and followed.

* * *

 

**[One Week Later]**

_**Loki's (Previously Jareth's) Study, Goblin Castle, The Labyrinth** _

"You've been staring at those books all week and still  _nothing?_ "

Sarah jerked her head up from where she was reading, letting out a faint groan as her body protested the sudden action, rubbing her sore shoulders and upper back. "Fuck, you scared me."

Loki looked pleased at that statement and she rolled her eyes as she leaned forward, sipping at her half-cold cup of coffee, knowing full well he'd enjoyed passing Alfred's antics on to her by his own unnerving habits of sneaking up on her.

She rather liked the older fae and when she'd offered to help him with some of the runnings of the kingdom, the man had practically fallen to tears. Since then, they'd been fast friends, something Loki didn't like but didn't discourage, either. She hadn't seen hide or hair from Hoggle since returning and while it annoyed her, she understood.

"Good, at least someone knows the sensation other than me," muttered Loki, settling on the other side of the couch Sarah rested on, tomb in hand. "Need any help?"

As she'd stayed past her initial few days, extending her absence at work to a full-blown sabbatical, they'd worked towards a strange symbiosis of sorts. She was still unnerved by him, he still had moments of superiority, but for the most part, they made it work - and perhaps a small part of her might have missed Jareth, but she'd never tell anyone that.

Loki had surprised her with her work dilemma by creating the illusion she'd discovered a dead aunt overseas with a will that made the Battle of Hastings appear tame by comparison and ever since then, she found the Norse God oddly likeable, even somewhat polite, despite his arrogance and dark tendencies and oodles of power, though not calling on it once in the Underground. He'd been briefly outraged at the simplicity of passing through mirrors and had used that little discovery often over the past week, going who knows where. She didn't want to know, so she didn't ask.

He still hadn't figured out the goblins, or how to properly run the Labyrinth Kingdom, and had begun to thaw towards her when Sarah had offered to help - phrasing it in such a way that it looked like he was helping her, rather than the other way around.

 _Immortals and their sense of self-inflation will never cease to amuse me,_ she mused to herself.

"I've combed through three references Alfred gave me and no can do, padre," Sarah muttered, casting off a few discarded tombs draped across her legs. "This is the last one," She leaned over, hoisting a book towards Loki. He accepted it with a frown, reading the label, then looked at her with a raised eyebrow, as if to say  _'Really? This one?'_

"Hey man, I just work here," Sarah muttered, shrugging a shoulder and draining her cup, thumbing through the tomb in her lap that she'd been reviewing before Loki came by. He sighed, then began to read alongside her.

Suddenly, she spotted it. Jerking up, casting aside the cup, she lurched towards him and shook his shoulders. She felt him bristle, rolling her eyes, then pointed at the spell. " _Look,_ asshole.  _Here._ This is it! This is how Jareth summons those crystals. Try it, go on."

Loki plucked the tomb out of Sarah's hands then gently nudged her back - a true sign of how much he'd warmed to her despite everything over the past few days. He hated mortals, she'd been in enough meetings with him lately to pick up on that, almost annoyed that Nick Fury knew who she was now, even going as far as offering her a job once she was back home, but had no choice, given how  _that_  meeting almost ended. Seeing Jareth's father was a shock and she almost tripped over her own feet in an effort to escape that man's eerie soul-searching stare, noting with a sense of mortification where Jareth got his good looks from.

 _This can't be over quick enough,_ she muttered in her head as she waited for Loki to finish reading.

He looked up, his eyes gleaming, and she knew she'd stumbled on the right spell, grinning back at his slow smile. "So? That's the one, isn't it?"

"Only one way to find out," Loki murmured, raising his hand. Sarah held her breath and stared as Loki muttered something under his breath, then watched as a perfectly formed crystal appeared in his palm.

Sarah couldn't help her whoop of joy, Loki grinning from ear to ear. They both stood and Loki whispered something else, casting them both in a new set of clothes. Sarah blinked, raising an eyebrow, and Loki grinned, gently pulling her close. Ever since that initial grab, he'd been nothing but gentle around her since. She nodded her approval.

"One trip to Asgard, coming up. This Fae magic could become quite handy, I must admit. It gives me new ways to avoid Heimdall." Loki grinned, holding onto her shoulders, then let the crystal fall to the floor, sweeping them both away.

_Heimdall who?_

* * *

 

A raven tilted its head, cawing loudly at the sky, from where it was perched at the window of the study. A breeze shifted and it took flight, blinking out of existence a few moments later.

* * *

 

_**Allfather's Palace, Resident's Wing, Asgard** _

"Where the fuck are we going, Loki? And why are we whispering? Aren't you, like, Prince of this place?" Sarah murmured, keeping her voice soft and the hood over her face low, as Loki held her wrist to his arm and gently urged her along, lingering in the shadows as they passed by guards on rotation.

"Yes, but my father banned me to your Fae's world and I'm pretty sure being here unannounced is not within the rules," He whispered back, tugging her along until they found his rooms, stumbling into them with a groan.

 _Since when did Jareth become_ _ **my**_ _Fae?_ She wondered, toppling with a groan onto a large ottoman in the center of the room, shrugging off the confined cloak Loki had her wear the moment they stepped on Asgard soil. Had she talked about him too much? Had Alfred told him about how she bested him, what their history was?

Loki snickered, settling beside her, rolling onto his back with a sigh, casting an arm over his eyes.

"Now what?" Sarah muttered, looking over at him. Loki turned, smiling at her, and for the first time, she realized he looked at her without that air of superiority in his eyes, suddenly noticing he actually seemed to be enjoying himself for once.

"Now we find your Goblin King and unfuck this very fucked situation," He replied, making her laugh.

* * *

 

Jareth was bored.  _How is it Loki finds this life interesting at all is completely lost on me._

He actually missed the Labyrinth, his subjects, even Alfred and his annoying overprotective father. Sighing, he scrubbed at his face and moved further down the halls of the Asgard palace, finally able to understand where he was going. It had taken him far longer than he thought and again, it reminded him of how much he liked things back home - simple.

Slowly rolling his head around, grimacing at the pull in his shoulders, he moved quietly down the hall towards his - Loki's - rooms. He'd made amends with Thor, who had come to him the next day, despite Jareth's protests, and apologized for his behavior. Jareth had, for some odd reason, forgiven him, and actually found the male's stories enjoyable, now that him and his fellow warriors stopped manhandling him at every turn.

A voice called to him and he paused, recognizing it. Turning, he smiled faintly at Lady Sigyn, who trotted over and smiled, making rounds with a gaggle of women at her side. "Lady Sigyn, hello."

"Jareth," She replied with a smile, ignoring the burst of giggles behind her as she came up to him. His eyebrows raised as she handed him an envelope. She smiled, shrugging a shoulder. "In case he returns. You know…"

"I do," he replied quickly, so she wouldn't have to mention Loki's name, not with so many bystanders nearby. Pocketing it, he bowed, then moved on when Sigyn stepped back, moving along with her ladies.

Shoving open the door to the bedroom suite he'd been hoisted into upon his arrival, he stilled as he heard another familiar noise, every atom of his being freezing and straining to listen -  _that laugh...that voice…_

Whipping his head up, he stared, feeling his ire rise as he watched Loki and Sarah, sprawled side by side,  _together_ , on the large ottoman in the center of the room. Hearing the word 'fucked' come out of Loki's mouth, followed by Sarah's laughter, sent him into a rage so strong, he thought he'd lose his shape and transform to the owl counterpart he rarely used these days.

Before he realized what he was doing, he had transported across the room, grabbed Loki by the collar, and slammed his fist into his jaw.

_How dare you, you bastard, she's_ _**mine** _ _!_

* * *

 

"Jareth?  _Jareth!_ Jareth -  _what the hell!?"_

Sarah blinked, startled at the abrupt end of their conversation, as Loki was hoisted up by Jareth, his fist connecting loudly with his jaw, snapping the Norse God's face back with a whip of movement.

She scrambled off the ottoman, trying to move over to interrupt the fight before things escalated, but Loki already beat her to it, subduing Jareth with a slam of magic to his middle, sending him sailing across the room and hitting the wall so hard, the marble cracked behind him. Sarah winced but glared at them both.

"You _dare_ touch me,  _here,_  at the seat of my power?" Loki roared, stalking forward, eyes flashing. Jareth seemed to struggle, then subdue, the magic wrestling him, jerking forward with a growl.

 _Oh shit,_ Sarah's internal alarm bells went off.  _This could be very, very bad._

"Why is  _she_  here? With  _you?_ " Jareth hissed, his face contorting in rage, mismatched eyes moving from Loki to Sarah as he moved, ready to spring. "Well,  _precious?_ Care to explain yourself? Or did you decide to go slumming in the Norse Pantheon while I was away?"

Sarah stilled, balking at his statement, then marched forward and drew up her hand, slapping Jareth clean across the face. She drew some satisfaction watching his cheek turn a mottled pink, despite not having the strength to move him an inch.  _You son of a bitch!_

"How fucking dare you.." She whispered, struggling to keep the hurt out of her voice, realizing she failed. Briefly, she saw remorse flicker in the depths of his eyes, but the stony fury surging underneath quickly ate it up, vanishing it under layers of hate as he sneered at her. "I am not Loki's plaything, you asshole. I was helping him, helping yo -  _forget it_ ," she spat, dropping what she was about to say, noting how Loki had gone eerily quiet, turning her gaze off Jareth to stare at the Norse God who simple watched on, expressionless.

"You explain it to him, I'll be out of the balcony," She grunted, shoving past the both of them, storming through the double doors leading outside.

* * *

 

A low mocking clap drew Jareth's gaze back to the Norse God, his eyes narrowing.

" _Wow,_  and here I thought _I_ had a pathetic way with women.  _You,_  though, that... _that_  was just  _magnificent._  I bow to your superior ability to shove your foot so far up your ass with the woman you care for to the point she can't stand the sight of you.  _Bravo_ ," Loki smirked, looking deviously delighted as Jareth stared at Sarah's retreating form, feeling gutted.

 _I fucked up so bad,_ he thought with a sense of dejection, then stiffened, hearing Loki's words.

"Sigyn says hello," he replied back coolly, watching Loki stiffen, turning to marble. He smirked, pulling the letter she had handed him in the hall out of his pocket. "Gave me this, in fact. Wonder if I should give it to you now?"

Loki moved forward, his eyes flashing, a growl escaping his lips, and Jareth shifted his wrist, the letter vanishing. Loki's eyes narrowed but he stopped, looking furious.

"I don't care for your woman, you imbecile, though I admire her strength. Perhaps you and my brother are right, not  _all_  of them are mindless. She has merely assisted me trying to rid us of this conundrum we both happen to be in. Now, give it here." Loki muttered, rolling his eyes, forcing some of the fury out of his voice, holding his hand out.

Jareth's gut eased hearing those words, his eyes briefly flickering towards the balcony, Loki's movement bringing his attention back on the Norse God. He grinned faintly, flashing a hint of eyetooth. "Say  _please_."

"Please," Loki stated, glaring but remaining deceptively calm, and Jareth suddenly felt a kinship in the Norse God, knowing how he felt about Sarah. He frowned faintly, making the letter reappear, then head it out towards Loki, watching the male snatch it out of his grip and eagerly open it.

Deciding to give the male privacy, he moved towards the balcony and the spitfire spirit of the mortal woman who'd captured his heart.

* * *

 

Sarah stared off into the distance, only realizing after she stormed out onto the balcony that she'd left her cloak behind in the room. Too angry to face him just yet, she tensed, looking around, then realized none of the guards could see her from here and relaxed.

She sighed, closing her eyes, wondering why she even cared what Jareth thought. Frowning, she thought back to how he looked - realizing he hadn't changed at all in the past twenty years that she'd aged, becoming a woman grown - and she still found him devastating. Perhaps that's why she was still single.

"Sarah."

She stilled, hearing his voice, looking over her shoulder and catching his gaze. Her eyes lowered and she colored, remembering that moments ago she was thinking how attractive he still was after all these years. She quickly turned away, not meeting his eyes. "He explained the situation?" She replied back, keeping her tone crisp.

"Yes. I...apologize for reacting so badly."

He'd come closer by the time he responded and she shivered. Suddenly, she wanted to know  _why_  he'd reacted the way he did. She turned, stilling at realizing how close he was. The look he gave her sent a new set of shivers up her spine. "What was that for, Jareth?"

Jareth stared, his eyes eating up her face, then he smiled. "Because, I…" He faltered, frowning, tipping his head to the side.

Sarah stared, growing impatient as his lack of a response. "You  _what?_ " She said after several seconds passed, exasperated.

Jareth moved so fast she couldn't say anything, only suck in a sharp breath, then he was leaning over her and kissing her. It was quick but left her breathless. She swayed, blinking, bringing a hand up to her mouth as he pulled back, never having touched her outside of his mouth quickly consuming hers, then returned as he was, standing several inches away.

"That's why." He smirked, looking amused as she struggled for composure.

"You two love birds ready?" Drawled Loki from the doorway, making Sarah jump. Jareth looked over his shoulder and Loki smiled, holding up the letter Sigyn had written him, that mischievous glint he was so well known for back in its proper place. "I think I know where to look for the spell to fix this. Come on."

As Loki moved back into his room, Jareth turned back towards Sarah, offering his arm. She trembled and straightened her shoulders, pleased that when she took his elbow, her grip was firm.

Together, they all wrapped their bodies in cloaks and left.

* * *

 

The raven popped back into existence far above the palace below, slowly circling, then swooping down quickly onto an open terrace, dropping a shimmer of magic onto the table, taking flight shortly thereafter.

Odin leaned forward, still chewing on his last bite of his lunch, ignoring Oberon's amused stare as he flicked the pellet of magic over, casting it into both their minds as it disappeared back to its source.

They both stilled, then laughed, looking at each other.

"Did you really expect anything less than this, Odin?" Chortled Oberon after he wiped at his mouth and took a sip of his coffee. He sighed, smiling, closing his eyes and relishing the taste.  _Bless mortals and their inventions, this macchiato is incredible._

"So, this is the infamous Sarah Williams," commented Odin with a grin. "She's quite impressive. You should mark her, I don't think your boy has the stones to do it himself. She is rather...tenacious."

"Already in the works, old friend. Alfred has been giving me summaries on how she's handled the kingdom while  _your_ son has made a fool of himself. Though, I've noticed he doesn't seem  _quite_  as eager to be the King he thinks he's ready of becoming these days." Oberon drawled, watching with amusement as Odin look positively pleased with that comment.

"Hear, hear," Agreed Odin. "How long should we give them before we let them know we're onto them?"

Oberon leveled an eye at his friend, sipping his drink. "Nothing short of Ragnarok is interrupting this meal. I didn't skip my high council session for nothing, you know."

Odin threw his head back and laughed, sending a decree to the raven to keep watch and see what else the trio could get into before they stepped in.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Last 2-3 chapters will be up late Friday. I told you this would be a short one, haha. I'm adding a second epilogue as a reader friend basically read me the riot act for rating this "teen." She was like "HELL NO, THIS IS LOKI AND JARETH, WHERE'S MY SMUT?!"
> 
> Fiiiine, twist my arm why don't you. (*cheeky grin*) That will be the very last chapter and really isn't needed to fulfill the story so for those wanting the "T" rating to stick, just ignore the epilogue Part 2.
> 
> How we liking this?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As previously noted, this is a 'quick fic' so pardon any grammar errors. Enjoy.

_**Allfather's Study, The Palace, Asgard** _

While they looked for the spell that would reverse Odin's decree, Loki kept thinking of the letter in his pocket. Sigyn had, in so many words, explained the guard rotation and where to find the Allfather's most treasured spells. If that wasn't a sign she cared for him, he didn't know what was. How she'd figured out his predicament, he would never know. On the way to the study, as they'd scouted the halls and avoided guards along the way, Jareth had explained he had not told her why he had replaced Loki.

It sent a deep-seated rage in him to think of Jareth interacting with her, but Jareth's look of horror when Loki growled and wanted to know what  _else_  they did besides chat relaxed his raised hackles. Despite him being well aware of Jareth's good looks, it was quite clear if he wasn't already infatuated with the mortal woman Loki had employed, Jareth did not find Sigyn appealing.

That made him both relieved and furious, for Sigyn was perfect in every way. The mortal woman was admirable but in no way compared to the Norse Goddess and the thought of taking Sarah romantically made him cringe. No mortal, no matter how appealing, would ever drive him to think of  _those things_ , not when compared to Sigyn.

His mind drifted back to Sigyn and he tensed, his stomach growing heavy. She was so sweet, he almost wanted to avoid her all over again, despite the help she'd offered. Sigyn was kind, he was not. Sigyn was open, he was closed. She was generous and transparent, he was selfish and duplicitous. If he was a good man, he'd stay away from her - so it was a very good thing that he wasn't one. He had no qualms for what he had in mind for the noble lady, none of them honest or keeping her best interest in mind - if he had that at heart, he'd stay away, but he couldn't -  _wouldn't_  - do it no matter what was offered in return. The thought of taking her, making her his, doing things to her that would make even the most seasoned ears in brothels burn across Asgard if overheard, made him -

He grit his teeth, letting out a slow, shuddering breath, calming himself.  _Oh no, I am not good. She will be mine, one way or another, when all is said and done._

He glanced over at the others to make sure they hadn't noticed his thoughts, realizing all too quickly the emotions could be seen across his face, too caught up in the fantasy to hold that useful expressionless mask he often wore over his was with a sense of perverse amusement that he realized they would not have noticed even if he'd all but announced his intentions aloud, in vivid descriptive detail, glancing out of the corner of his eye towards the other two.

The fae was besotted, whether or not he'd admit it freely, Loki had picked up on that fact the moment Jareth had flown into a mindless rage at seeing them on the ottoman together. He snorted faintly, amused that Jareth thought that he would bed her, no matter how useful or attractive the mortal was. He had standards, after all.

Watching the two of them, he did find he understood the obsession. The fae liked games, perhaps even more than his own people, and the mortal woman certainly knew how to properly challenge an opponent. That alone would hold the King's interest, and with the fae's lack of censor with marking or mating mortals, the match would be a good one. He shifted on his feet, for the first time in his life feeling a sense of embarrassment, recounting how Sarah and Alfred completed more than their fair share of ruling the Labyrinth Kingdom, for which had been an almost overwhelming task for him.

He found himself chuckling, shaking his head, realizing how horribly wrong he'd been to miscalculate Jareth's ruling abilities. It seemed ruling over something even as insignificant as goblins was quite the challenge. He paused, frowning, realizing he still had a lot to learn before he was ready to rule...well,  _anything really_. Gritting his teeth, he inwardly seethed at how that admission would please his father to no end and vowed right then to never mention his epiphany, lest his father take the opportunity to gloat at his expense.

Casting an eye over at them again, bored with his own tomb and nearing the end and seeing nothing of importance, he saw that Jareth was too busy staring at Sarah to read his own. He tensed, jealous of the fae's happiness and impatient to meet with his own coveted paramour, almost interrupting the peaceful silence to snap for the fae to pay attention, but Sarah looked up from her own books and remedied it for him before he could bark back something much gruffer and no doubt ruin the tentative truce between them.

She tensed, blushing like a school maid and rolling her eyes, tapping Jareth's book with a brief mix flash of annoyance and amusement in her face, making the fae's attention snap back to the task at hand. If he wasn't irritated, he would have laughed at how quickly the mortal schooled the fae King at her side.

 _Does she even realize the power she holds?_ He wondered, then sobered. Sigyn could do the same to him, more than likely, but he found himself oddly unconcerned.

Sighing, rubbing his eyes tiredly, he looked down and did his best to focus, barely able to keep the beautiful image of Sigyn out of his thoughts while he read.

* * *

Unseen, in the upper corner of the study, a raven nestled down and tilted its head to the side. It huffed, a very human-like sound for an animal, while it watched the current occupants of the study scour over books of ancient, but mostly harmless, spells.

Its dark gaze shifted to the glass case across the way, keeping a keen eye on that shelf. As long as the mortal and the two Princes did not disturb that shelf, the bird kept its distance, recording what it saw.

* * *

"They've yet to touch the important tombs, Frigga, relax. The boys have remained unmolested, my ravens can attest if you don't believe me. We only wanted to stretch their humility, our intentions were pure..." Odin gently reasoned with his wife, who stood beside Titania with an expression that would melt glaciers.

She cast her gaze towards his friend, feeling Oberon tense. He barely suppressed a chuckle, and thank the old gods he did, for he was pretty sure his wife would have cast him off the terrace if he uttered a single noise out of line. His wife was as fierce as she was loving, and her anger at the men's toying with her son had sent her into a keen rage he hadn't seen in quite a while. By the look on Titania's matching expression, he was pretty sure the same held true for the Queen of the Fairies.

"You did not consult us before this, Odin! This is not how parenting works!" Barked Frigga, dragging his attention back to his wife. He scowled, for the first time willing to show anger.

"And you coddle that boy too much, wife! Look where that has gotten him!" He hissed, leaning forward, feeling his shoulders burn with Frigga's rage, her magic crackling.

Oberon, always the one with limitless patience, interjected with a soft tone, easing the whipcord power churning against his skin. "Queen Frigga, beloved wife, I can attest that it was  _my_ magic that deployed the spell. No harm has come to either Prince, but we can show you the improvements we've seen."

Oberon's eyes shifted to his wife and he frowned. "You know as well as I do that Jareth was running the Labyrinth Kingdom into the ground, overtaxing Alfred in the process. Come, look. I know why. It was that mortal girl, and since Loki accepted her employ, come see what she's done. She's a marvelous thing."

Titania's expression eased, hearing that Jareth's plight was tied to a mortal. Looking at Frigga, who simply rolled her eyes and motioned to the High Fae King, Titania moved towards Oberon, who held up a glittering facet of magic. Placing her hands over his, she smiled, coming to sit beside him in the chair Oberon tugged to his side.

"Oh my." She whispered, opening her eyes, looking over at Oberon with a smile. "You...marked her, yes?"

"I did," Oberon grinned, watching his wife turn pink in approval. Odin grit his teeth, knowing he wouldn't have such a fair reunion with his wife, looking over at the woman who still stood rigidly a few feet away.

"Oh, come now Frigga, 'tis not so bad. Look, our son at least learned that there is more to ruling a Kingdom than title alone," He grunted, standing and thrusting a facet of magic into her palm. Frigga tensed, gasping, her eyes widening and then narrowing, before closing completely, letting the raven's memories wash over her. She slowly opened her eyes and his shoulders relaxed, seeing most of the rage dissipated. She stared at him, then groaned and rolled her eyes, standing on her tiptoes and placing a quick kiss against his lips. "Next time tell me at least before you do something so rash. I do not disapprove, though."

He grinned, murmuring where their guests couldn't hear what he'd like to tell her about how magnificent she was - all fire and fury and encased in such a fetching package - letting that arousal that never went away briefly flare to the forefront of his mind and in the depths of his eyes as he looked at her. She laughed, a throaty sexy sound, then simply shoved him away, making her way to her own chair unassisted, his eye trailing her all the way before he finally returned to the table himself.

"We'd like to be there when you break the spell," Frigga commented, catching Odin's and Oberon's attention. They glanced at each other before looking back their wives, seeing no room for negotiation in their gaze. His shoulders slumped, slightly irritated, but knew there was no sense in protesting what they asked - if they wanted to be there, nothing could hold them from it.

Odin sighed and groaned. "You ruin all the fun," he grumped, but agreed. Oberon simply kept wisely quiet, and the two women smiled as servants came forward, bringing them both a glass of warm tea.

* * *

"Loki."

He'd wandered off, finding nothing of use nearby, and froze at the sound of Sigyn's voice. Snapping his head up, he stared, seeing her standing shyly a few feet away, an attractive blush raising into the apples of her cheeks.

"Lady Sigyn…" He found himself whispering, the sound oddly weak coming from his lips. He didn't even have time to register that before she stepped forward, smiling.

"You received my letter, I see."

"I did," he swallowed, unable to tear his gaze away. He knew he gawked, he knew he looked a fool, but he didn't even dare to blink, thinking she'd vanish if he did. She flushed a deeper shade of pink, slightly embarrassed at his stare, but he didn't care. She was beautiful beyond measure and he wanted her with such a passion in that moment, he almost blurted out that he loved her.

"You also know I'm engaged to be married now, yes?" She whispered, the joyous expression on her face slightly falling. It was as effective as slamming a fist into his gut, making him wince.

"I...heard of the rumors. It's true, then? You accepted?" He wheezed, the sound forced, his tongue like sandpaper in his mouth, the act of speaking painful.

"My father did," she stated, her lips settling into a thin line. Suddenly, her eyes flared brightly, and she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Jareth rounded the corner and she tensed. He turned, snarling, barking at the fae to go away, and Jareth simply blinked at him, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"What's your problem, Loki? We found it, the spell. Come on."

"The hell you mean, what's wrong? I'm…" He snapped his mouth shut, suddenly feeling her absence, whirling and seeing no sign of Sigyn. She must have transported away the moment she saw him. Suddenly feeling distraught at the loss, he threw the tomb in his hands angrily across the room.  _I was_ _ **this close**_ _to telling her how I felt, how I wanted her above all others!_

"Are you quite alright?" Jareth's gentle tone made him bristle but he suddenly sagged, the wave of anger fleeing as quickly as it came, feeling utterly defeated.

 _No,_ he thought, his mood dark, turning and motioning silently for Jareth to move and he would follow, his expression cold and blank. The fae frowned but said nothing, moving back to where Sarah was most likely and he tagged along behind him, his heart feeling hollow.  _No, I'm really not…_

* * *

Sarah stared at the book in excitement, looking up as Jareth and Loki read the text. Another thing she found eerie, she could read along with them. It was one thing back in the Labyrinth, with how well she'd grown accustomed to their language with Alfred's translation spells, but being able to read this text, in Asgard of all places, briefly had her wondering why.

She dropped the odd inquiry as soon as Jareth and Loki both tensed, their postures becoming much more focused, jaws flexing.

"So that's it?" She whispered, glancing between the two. Loki looked up, gratitude and a sense of excitement in his eyes, nodding his head. She looked over at Jareth, who gave her such a hot look she shivered, biting her lower lip.  _When he looks at me like that, oh boy…_

"Well done, precious. We'll be out of here in no time." He grinned, his eyes lowering over her form, telling Sarah in so many looks what he planned to do to reward her. She swallowed and pressed her knees together.

"So, let's get this show on the road," she gestured, looking back down at the book, leaning over the table. "Says here, you…" She frowned, feeling the room go utterly quiet, even the sound of the snapping flames in the fireplace seeming muted.

"Guys,  _the passage._   _Right here._  So like….can you...you know,  _say_ it? So we can get the hell out of here?" She tapped the book, then looked up at them both, exasperated they chose  _now_  of all times to go quiet. She froze, seeing their still frames and wide eyes and utter silence as they stared at something behind her, and she slowly turned, trailing her eyes towards where they looked, only to barely suppress a scream as she stared in the faces of four very old, very unamused gods, goddesses and fae royalty.

_Ohhhhhh, shit!_

"Children…" Said one of the women, the one standing by Odin's side, making Sarah hyperventilate.  _That's fucking Frigga and Odin. Oh shit, oh shit - shit, shit, shit -_

Before her thoughts went too wild, the woman's gaze shifted to her and she swore for a moment her heart stopped beating. The woman faintly smiled, stepping forward, offering her hand. "You must be the mortal known as Sarah Williams."

_Jesus fuck, she even knows my name. I am so screwed._

"That's me," she stated calmly, internally cheering herself at the sound of how collected she seemed. She forced a smile that felt numb to her face. "Nice to meet you, Allmother."

Frigga smiled, looking back over at the others, then stepped towards Loki. Sarah dropped her gaze but couldn't help but listen as Frigga came to stand before her son.

"Mother," Loki offered coolly, making Sarah blink.

Frigga's tone seemed amused. "Son. Have you enjoyed your taste of ruling?" Sarah could tell her words were weighted, probing, and she found herself holding her breath until Loki answered.

His tone sounded crisp, almost slightly furious, when he finally gruffly replied. "It was...a valuable experience, yes."

"And do you think you're ready for more challenging subjects?" Frigga replied, calm as can be, but Sarah heard Loki's odd shifting of feet. She bit the inside of her cheek to hide her grin, finally realizing who could make that man squirm.

"I...admit I might have more room for lessons, mother."

"Good." She replied, moving towards Jareth. "Titania and Oberon tell me you've been an unfit ruler as of late. Is that true?"

Sarah stilled, utterly silent, and she felt Jareth's tense roil of emotions even this far away, not daring to look over her shoulder, keeping her eyes on the ground.

"Yes, it is." Jareth answered honestly, making Sarah's eyebrows raise before she could control it. "For quite some time, actually."

"How long?" Frigga asked, and Sarah almost moved to leave, feeling Jareth's embarrassment so keenly, her ribs ached.

"Too long," He simply replied, the tone soft. "But I miss it. I will do better. I am aware it is in a state."

"No, actually, it's not. Your mortal and your advisor made sure to clean up your mess quite well while you were gone, I'm happy to inform." Frigga replied, her tone amused, and Sarah swallowed, closing her eyes, her skin turning hot.  _Way to throw me under the bus, Frigga, geez.._

"This is true," spoke Oberon, making her open her eyes and look up, meeting the older fae's eyes. He smiled, pleased, then had the chance to look briefly embarrassed. "I've...chosen to mark you as one of us, Sarah. We would do well to keep you. You've a clean head for politics in our realm. Never worry, though, your time Above will not be affected," he hastily added, seeing her pale.

She wasn't sure what to say to that, blinking in confusion, but it was Jareth's hiss that made her falter in the smile that was slowly forming. " _Father!_  You did  _not!_ "

"Oh, I most certainly did, son. Something  _you_  should have done ages ago," Oberon commented at Jareth, his eyes shifting behind her with a frown. She didn't dare look over her shoulder, simply staring at the High King, her pulse roaring in her ears. Exactly what did marking her entail? She licked her lips, feeling her emotions numbing, opening her mouth to say something before Odin stepped forward and the urge was squashed.

"In any event, you've learned what we wanted. Now, begone with you, and try and be the sons you  _should_  be."

Before anyone could say anything, he slammed his staff down on the ground, and the world went black.


	5. Epilogue: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue, Part 1. Still rated "T."

_**Asgard Palace, Loki's Return Ball, Throne Room** _

Loki stared across the room, his mood dour, as he watched Sigyn move across the floor with that perfunctory male from before on her arm. He grit his teeth, furious, but said nothing. She hadn't spoken to him since his fortune and Jareth's had been reversed and hadn't returned his numerous letters.

 _It seems I am wrong, I am easily forgotten after all._ For some reason, the thought made him sad.

He sighed, moving to leave, when Thor stepped into his line of vision, and Loki groaned, closing his eyes and rolling his head back with exasperation.  _Fucking great, just the thing I needed when I'm feeling my lowest. What's on the menu today, brother? Why not just carry me on your back like those mortals do in those contraptions for their children?_

"Welcome back, brother." Thor's tone was kind, soft, and he didn't feel the crush of heavily muscled arms barging in around his shoulders. He blinked, opening his eyes, looking over at Thor curiously.

"Hello," he stated evasively, tipping his head to the side as he frowned, noting the change. Thor looked equally nervous and the large man cleared his throat before Loki could say anything else.

"I'm sorry about...before. Jareth -  _ah_  - Jareth basically called me an ogre and an asshole and explained to me, _quite viciously I assure you_ , why….you didn't enjoy my company before. I'm truly sorry, brother, if I made you uncomfortable." Thor looked at Loki, shifting on his feet with embarrassment.

Loki stared, at a loss for what to say.  _Is he...actually apologizing? Wow._

"Yes, well…" Loki murmured, clearing his throat, straightening his tunic, "Just stop...manhandling me and I think we can come to some sort of agreement to be amicable again towards one another."

Thor grinned and Loki actually found himself smiling back. Before he could reply, Thor's gaze snapped away and he leaned over, shoving someone away. Loki sputtered, rolling his eyes, realizing while Thor might not manhandle  _him_ any longer, that lesson certainly didn't seem to apply to anyone else, at least grateful he was left out of it. Only when he focused, did he jerk, realizing who it was.

It was Sigyn's fiancée.

" _Theoric,_ old friend! I haven't seen you in  _ages!_  Surely Lady Sigyn won't mind if I borrow you for a bit, yes?" He bellowed in that grating over-the-top voice he was so well known for, giving Sigyn a brief nod. Loki could only stare in silent horror, then suppressed amusement, suddenly realizing what Thor was playing at.

He was giving him time alone with Sigyn and he felt his heart lurch in his chest.

"Well, actually…" Theoric started, but Thor's powerful clap of his shoulder made the man wince as Thor interrupted him.

" _Excellent!_ Come, let us drink! Excuse us…" Thor roared, offering Loki a wink, before all but dragging the unsuspecting male off with him. Loki had to force himself to suppress a laugh.

_Maybe he's not so bad after all…._

Hearing her small cough made him freeze, then shift his eyes towards her. She blushed, looking away, and he found his feet moving of their own accord. She looked up, startled to see him so close, and before she could reply, he lunged forward, catching her mouth with his.

It was everything he thought it would be. She sighed, opening to him, and he groaned. She tasted so sweet, so meek - mild to his bold - and he found himself for once curbing his tenacious tendencies to be gentle towards her. She stepped back after a few seconds, her eyes wide, staring around the room, wondering who had seen them.

"I cast a cloaking spell first," he murmured, staring at the puffiness of her lips, licking his own. He wanted to taste her again, kiss her, fuck her, claim her…

"Why...are you doing this? You know I'm to be married," she whispered, her tone sounding broken, and he snarled, tugging her to him, watching those beautiful eyes of hers go wide.

"You're not marrying that prick," he hissed, unable to resist dropping his mouth to nibble at her collarbones. The sighs of pleasure she made had his dick throbbing painfully underneath his breeches.

"But my father, your father -" She whispered, then stopped when his hand cupped her breast, a shaky moan escaping her lips.

_Fuck, I want you. Right now._

Suddenly, he snapped his head up, meeting her eyes. "You can't marry Theoric if you marry me first," he thickly replied, his tone guttural. His male sense of pride flared at seeing her brief look of pleasure at the thought.

"But if I go against his wishes…" She started again, that expression of pleasure fading, being replaced by sadness, only to stop as he snarled again, dragging her close, kissing her for several minutes.

"I'm the God of Lies. For once in my pathetic life, it will serve me some use. I will take the blame. I will…" He closed his eyes, letting the glamour fall into place, and he smirked as he heard her gasp.

Opening his eyes, he stared at her as she looked at him, realization dawning in those beautiful eyes. He grinned at her small smile, molding her to him and dropping the cloaking spell. No one seemed to notice them as he kissed her again boldly.

"Shall we?" He grinned, turning away from the ball, offering his hand. She smiled, tears in her eyes, and took his hand, and he led them away - by all outward appearances looking a besotted fiancée with his betrothed at his side.

"Theoric, Sigyn, congratulations!" Someone called to their side, making them turn. Loki grinned, holding Sigyn close, thanking him before tugging Sigyn off the floor.

"What are we doing?" She whispered, though her tone sounded excited.

"Finding a priest," he replied, grinning as he looked over at her.

She smiled back and his heart swelled painfully in his chest, tugging her along as they left the ball.

* * *

 

_**Sarah's Apartment, New York, New York, Aboveground** _

Sarah sighed, letting herself into her cold, silent, single-bedroom apartment, trying to keep her tears at bay. She hadn't heard from Jareth or anyone from the Underground in over a week since her return and decided the magical wonder she'd stumbled back into the past few weeks was finally over and done.

_So why aren't I happy? Didn't I want a normal life? Why does it feel like my heart was ripped out of my chest?_

Halting herself before she answered those questions, she moved towards her fridge, deciding it was time to bust into that bottle of merlot. She needed a glass, or maybe the whole damn bottle.

"Sarah."

The sudden sound of her name made her scream, whirling to face whomever addressed her. She froze, eyes going wide, her purse falling from her numb fingers as she stared at who stood in her living room.

Jareth smiled, looking slightly nervous despite the power he exuded, as handsome as ever - maybe even more so as time had once more passed between them and his countenance grew fonder to her.

"What…" She struggled to say, her voice cracking as her heart pounded furiously in her chest, licking her lips and willing her voice to sound steady, trying again. "What are you doing here, Jareth?"

"I thought we could talk." He stilled, his smile fading, looking her over. She frowned, blinking.

 _Talk...he wants to fucking_ _ **talk?**_ _Are you_ _ **fucking kidding me?**_  The outrage must have shown on her face, because his expression suddenly become dark and clouded and he stormed forward.

She glared at him, opening her mouth to say something harsh, but he had already eaten up the distance between them and was kissing her. She moaned, raising her hands and tightening them into fists, readying to punch his chest since she was still mad as hell, but his mouth moved and she found herself wilting.

When his arm curled around her waist and hauled her up against him, she once more saw fury, pulling back and sputtering, breaking her contact with his mouth, hissing in anger. " _Talking,_ Jareth? You want to fucking  _talk_  to me? After avoiding me for a week? Why you  _arrogant, magic-toting, glitter-suffused assho_  -"

" _Shut up, precious,_ " he snarled, making her blink, then hauled her back up against him, kissing her again. Her protests drowned in her mouth as his hips bucked against hers, able to feel the ridge of his arousal even through their clothes.

It didn't even register to her that he'd picked her up and carried her through to the bedroom until they crashed onto the soft sheets. She frowned, pulling back to say something, but when his hands went up her skirt, she sighed and fell back.

He smirked atop her, then lunged, going in for the kill.

_Oh, yes. Oh, that's sweet - yes, right there. Please yes. Ohhh…._

**FIN**


	6. Epilogue Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Epilogue Part 2 The much wanted "Sexy Times." This is rated M for sex. If you don't want to read, pass this over.

_**Loki's Apartments, Allfather's Palace, Asgard** _

Shoving her through the door, Loki refused to move his mouth off Sigyn's, hearing her muffled cries of pleasure as he stroked the tops of her breasts, willing her gown loose as he moved her towards the bed.

 _Oh, yes, my sweet. Call for me. Say my name, demand my cock, ask me to claim you - Damn, I want you…_ He shuddered, cupping her bare breasts as the dress fell in his aggressive efforts to strip her bare with his magic. When his fingers found her nipples, tugging them into hardened peaks, her cries of ecstasy made his cock throb to full, painful awareness.

"Touch me," he hoarsely commanded, dropping his mouth to her breasts, as he toppled them into the bed, illusions cast off with their clothes the moment they'd entered his rooms. He groaned as her feather-soft fingers gently stroked down his tense abdomen, lightly circling the crest of his arousal, her gasp of his slippery excitement coating her fingers.

" _Fuck,_  Sigyn, touch me -  _please_. Pump me, like...this…" He struggled to say, his mouth on her breast, reaching down to grip her hand, show her how to stroke him. She did as he asked and he groaned, the sound loud and painful, thrusting faintly against her soft strokes. "Like that, yes,  _oohhhh yes._. I…"

He tensed, his balls aching, as he nibbled on her breast, willing his body to relax and let her explore. Suddenly, with her gentle tugs, he was so close to climaxing, he had to harshly pull away. He saw her blush and tense and gently stroked her breasts, calming her.

"You did nothing wrong, sweet. In fact, that was perfect. I almost spilled in your hand, love." He whispered, watching her gaze meet his, a small smile tugging at her lips, her arousal making her eyes glitter and her face flush, as he grinned back.

He dropped his hand, cupping her sex and making her moan, brushing a finger along her tender folds, spreading her, before thrusting a digit inside. She moaned again, her back arching, knees wanting to close, but he nudged his shoulders in the way, forbidding it. "See, this is where I want to spend. Right…. _here_."

He stroked, curling his finger just so to rub against that spongy spot inside her channel, and he watched in a pounding sense of possessive want as she groaned softly and her sheath squeezed tightly around his fingers. "Would you like that, love? For me to come inside you?"

" _Yes,_ " she whispered, her eyes opening as she looked at him. "Make me yours."

His cock twitched and she let out a soft huff of laughter, knowing he liked her words. He grinned, then his expression softened. "You are virgin. The first time might not be...pain free. I will be as gentle as I can, but I've wanted you so long, I…"

"I trust you, Loki.  _Please,_  make me yours." Sigyn sighed, tugging on his shoulders, wanting him to straddle her and take her. He groaned, lost, his cock rearing up at her words, and he quickly moved into place, lowering his hips, seating the tip of him just against her warm center.

"You sure? There's no going back after this," he whispered, stroking her cheek, trembling with the effort to hold back.

"I'm sure," she whispered, looking steadily into his gaze. He groaned, leaning forward, kissing her, then slowly thrust forward, seating himself in her creamy warmth. She tensed, but the breech was easier than he expected, watching and feeling her only tense once as her maidenhead gave, then he was inside and it was  _perfect._

"I'm going to move now," he rasped, his breathing ragged, and she nodded, canting her hips at just the right angle to hold his cock perfectly. He grit his teeth, then moved.

He kept his thrusts slow and shallow, not wanting to harm her, the first few moans like music to his ears. She was dangerously tight, each movement a study in his force of will, his body screaming at him to pump furiously, then spurt. He wanted -  _needed_  - for this to be good for her.

Reaching down, he stroked her clit briskly with soft finger pads, feeling her channel quiver around him as he moved. He groaned, his face twisting, so close to spilling he visibly shook at holding himself back.

Just as he thought he was going to lose, unable to stop the swell that rolled through his stomach as his orgasm approached with the swiftness of a flood, he heard her cries and felt her channel stutter then squeeze in tight, rhythmic bursts. It was just what he needed, and he began to move hard and fast, swept up in his own building release, until he was pounding, surging, lunging - then roaring as he rooted as deep as he could go, stilling atop her, forcing her eyes to meet his as his cock twitched, then kicked  _hard,_ filling her with his seed.

" _Mine,_ Sigyn. You're  _mine. Ahh,_ gods, I need to…" He winced, then began to move again, despite having just crested, unable to stop. She moaned, then started rocking her hips up towards his just as he swiftly moved down, then both of them moaned and barked - shocked that they pulled a sharp, secondary climax from each other so quickly after the first.

He sagged against her, feeling her arms and ankles wrapped around her, unable to say anything but groan as his cock kept spurting in languorous, slow pulses.

"Welp, it's official. I'm well and truly fucked now," she suddenly teased, meaning both bound to him in marriage and - quite literally. He tipped his head up, seeing her smile, then suddenly began to laugh.

"Indeed, you are, Lady. Indeed, you are," He grinned, then started that singing between their bodies all over again.

* * *

 

_**Jareth's Castle, The Labyrinth, Underground** _

She didn't even register the change in the texture of the sheets, too focused on tearing off Jareth's clothes like a mad woman. He snarled, his tongue tangling with hers, as his fingers thrust rapidly, thumb stroking boldly at her clit, his other hand rocking her hips gently back and forth, forcing her to ride his hand.

" _Ffffuck, Jareth,_ " She whispered, squeezing her eyes shut, her channel clenching around his fingers, her own having stilled at his chest, feeling his heart beating rapidly underneath her palms. "I'm going to…"

" _Do it, now._.." He hissed, cutting her off, his fingers plunging further, moving quicker, flicking his thumb faster, and she screamed, shuddering, her head rolling back, his free hand wrapping around her to hold her in place against him as she convulsed, one tight spasm after the next until she sagged against him with a sob.

Before she realized it, she felt him in her, moving, a thick hot presence as he held her against him, holding her open from the hips, his own rapidly thrusting, hammering into her. She groaned, dragging her mouth back to his throat, sucking down on the side of his neck, squeezing her sheath around him upon hearing his loud groan, the sound strained and broken, as he began to move even harder inside her.

Suddenly, a wall hit her back, and she blinked her eyes open, realizing he'd moved from the bed to the wall, bracing her knees wide open with his palms, further allowing him to pound in swift, sure strokes.

"More," she moaned, arching, feeling his snarl as his strokes turned savage, almost painful. She squeezed, knowing it was a double-edged sword for them both, feeling each thrust like a spiked hammer against her sensitive nerves. She was dangerously close to coming, feeling his cock swell, knowing it was the same for him. Just as he almost seemed to lose control, seizing, she grinned and licked at his jaw, closing her eyes.

" _More,_ " she hissed, knowing he would accept the challenge and hold off, stave off that desperate need to spurt, just because she'd demanded it of him.

" _Fuck,_  Sarah, I...am going to make you pay for...this…" He groaned, moving sharper, faster, going wild, moving too fast for human measure. Sensations swelled between her legs, and before she could scream, they both seized, screaming and bucking as their orgasms crashed together like a tsunami, and Sarah suddenly felt something shift inside her, crashing her further into complete destruction against her peak.

Slowly, she came back to herself, still hearing Jareth groan, shuddering, his cock still kicking, spurting deep, where he cradled her hips tightly against her own, buried as deep as he could go.

" _Mine,_ " he gasped, groaning, rolling his hips in a slow circle, coating her insides with his release. She shuddered.

"Queen sounds better," she whispered, watching him still, trying to focus on her face, still seizing. She grinned, feeling her own arousal spike again, and he seemed to sense it, reaching between them as he panted, briskly stroking her clit, watching her face change, then shatter, as those moments made her clench around him, then spasm, crashing once more into orgasm.

"Queen it is, then…"Jareth finally sighed, sagging against her, cradling her close as he carried her towards the bed, never removing himself from her, even as they settled to sleep, curling her atop him, his hands resting tightly on her bottom, keeping him buried deep.

"Mmm," she simply replied, smiling as she felt his cock slowly flare back to life. She leaned up, then gently rocked her hips, spending several minutes ever so slowly to drag one last climax from them both, before falling against his chest, immediately falling to sleep.


End file.
